Gotta have faith
by dicaprio
Summary: It's February 2011, and Syed and Christian know each other a lot better than they did before they got together in the summer of the previous year, and yet ...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Get out," Syed screams; and Christian, his face flushed with anger, turns on his heal and walks back out the door, slamming it shut after him.

###########################

_About fifteen minutes later_

"Syed, what's wrong?" cries Zainab anxiously, rushing over to him without thinking, as soon as she sees her Son sitting on a one of the benches in the Square, in tears.

"Mum," Syed cries in surprise, when he looks up and sees her. "I'm fine, there's nothing wrong," he tries to assure her, struggling to get the words out, desperately trying to get himself under control.

"Wait, don't rush off," she implores, quickly grabbing his arm as he tries to leave. She sits him back down, and gives him a minute to pull himself together.

"I'm fine honestly," Syed says eventually, the tears in his voice giving lie to the words.

"No, you're not," Zainab snaps as gently as she can.

"Please, mum," he mumbles, "I'll be okay."

"Tell me what happened," she asks, "is it something to do with Christian?"

And suddenly, having his mother looking at him with concern, caring about him just for a moment, is too much for Syed, and the floodgates open. "We had a huge fight," he sobs, full of despair. "I told him to leave, and he just turned around and walked out. I think it's over," he cries, the tears falling faster, his body shaking with the effort to contain his pain. Instinctively, he reaches out to her, and before she realises what he intends to do, he has his arms around her and his head buried in her shoulder. Unable to help herself, Zainab hugs him back.

Once he has stopped crying, he pulls back and looks up at her unsurely. "Sorry," he mumbles awkwardly.

"It's okay," she says gently.

"Are you going to say 'I told you so'?" he asks, his face a picture of vulnerability.

"No," Zainab says with a sad smile, "I've only ever wanted what's best for you."

"As long as it isn't Christian," Syed miserably finishes the sentence for her.

"Well ..," she starts to say, but can't deny the undeniable. "Please come home with me, Syed," she suddenly pleads, her eyes full of hope, "you need your family at a time like this."

Syed doesn't answer, but Christian has seen and heard all he needs to.

###########################

_A few minutes later, in the Vic_

As soon as he walks in the door, he spots Paul standing at the bar chatting to Roxy. "Hey, glad I caught you," he purrs, sliding up beside him, and dropping an arm casually around his shoulders.

"I thought you weren't interested, that you had a top bloke to go home to?" Paul replies, surprised but happy at the unexpected turn of events.

"Yea, turns out he's not so great after all," replies Christian flippantly, mask firmly in place.

"Well, at least buy me a drink first," Paul protests, as Christian downs in one go the drink he did have, and starts to pull him towards the door.

"No time," Christian says, his voice full of promise, "back to mine."

"Paul is in no frame of mind to resist; he spent the whole of the previous night drooling over one of the hottest guys he's ever come across in all his years of clubbing; and his instincts tells him he has a very small window of opportunity here, and he's not going to do anything to ruin it.

#####################

"Syed, please," Zainab begs, when he remains silent.

"I can't go home with you, mum," Syed reluctantly disappoints her; "no matter what happens, I'm with Christian now."

"But you said, just now, that it was over," Zainab reminds him, confusion colouring her voice.

"I know, but just because we've had a few rows doesn't mean it's really over," he explains.

"Right," she says, still confused.

"I love him so much, mum," he cries, "I can't live without him."

"It's just a phase you're going through," Zainab still stubbornly refuses to accept the truth.

"No, mum, I have never felt like this before in my life. I left you and dad to be with him because it physically hurt me not to be with him," Syed confesses. "Christian and I may be from two very different backgrounds, but 99 per cent of the time it makes no difference; we get on so well and are so happy together."

"And what about the other one per cent?" she asks.

"The other one per cent is what we've been rowing about, but somehow we've got to find a compromise," Syed replies with forced optimism.

"It's a bit like you and me," he adds with a little smile. "My being gay is your one per cent."

"More like 50," Zainab says contemptuously.

"Yea, well, if we could come to a compromise, then maybe we could be friends again," Syed suggests hopefully.

"But, it's against ..." Zainab tries to say.

"We could pretend I'm just a person and you're just a person, and be friends the way you and Denise are, and ignore the bits about each other that we don't like," Syed offers tentatively.

"What don't you like about me?" she snaps, straightening up defensively.

"I love every single thing about you, I think you're perfect in every way, apart from the fact that you're homophobic," he replies.

"Oh," murmurs Zainab, "well I've nothing against them really, you know, as long as they keep to themselves," she tries to defend herself. "I actually liked _him_ before …" she admits.

"And remember how much you liked me before …," he reminds her; "but I can't change the way I am, you know how hard I've tried. Ignoring me, punishing me like this isn't going to make me straight, I've no choice in the matter."

"If you were away from him, if we moved away from here," Zainab pleads.

"No, mum," Syed says firmly, "it would make no difference. Even if I hadn't met Christian, I know now that I couldn't live with a woman. Those four months with Amira were a nightmare for me, and probably for her; I wouldn't do that to another woman. And, anyway, if I didn't have Christian in my life, I know I would day-by-day, slowly lose the will to live."

"But how can you be so sure," Zainab hangs on to her argument determinedly.

"Because I've been there," he says sadly, "when I gave him up to be with Amira."

"But," Zainab begins, trying to think of another argument.

Listen, I need to be heading back to the flat, now," Syed interrupts regretfully, "I need to be there when Christian gets back; I need to speak to him, to speak calmly to him to try to find a way to sort things out; but if you want to have a think about my suggestion, maybe we could talk later, or tomorrow, or anytime; just a few words for a few minutes the odd time would do, I've missed you so much, mum," he admits huskily, his emotions getting the better of him again. "It hurts me so much every time you and dad walk past me without even acknowledging my existence," he adds, his eyes welling up.

"But you won't come back home with me?" Zainab asks one last time.

"No," Syed says quietly, "I could never leave Christian."

###########################

"Are you sure he won't suddenly turn up? Have you …?" Paul manages breathlessly, before Christian slams him up against the wall just inside the door of the flat, his mouth cutting off whatever he was going to say next.

"Is everything okay?" he asks hesitantly after a few minutes.

"Shut up," Christian mumbles.

Neither of them hears the key turn in the door.

"We'd be more comfortable over there," he suggests, "nodding towards the bed."

"No," growls Christian.

"Christian," Paul says very reluctantly a moment later.

"What? WHAT?" he shouts impatiently, pulling back. "Can't you just shut the f**k up for one …," he starts to add irritably before he realises that Paul is looking over his shoulder. Following his gaze, he finds himself looking into the devastated eyes of his life partner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Well, you've really got me now," he laughs harshly, letting go of Paul and absently pushing him away. "Those self-fulfilling prophesies really do work."

Syed just stares at him, unable to speak.

"Didn't expect you back today, babe," he adds casually, "thought you'd send Tam for your stuff, maybe tomorrow."

"Christian," Syed manages to say shakily, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I should, maybe ...," Paul mumbles, not knowing what to do with himself.

"Get out," snaps Christian, without taking his eyes of Syed.

"I won't expect your call, then," he replies sarcastically.

The sound of the door banging behind him snaps Syed out of his trance. "I've got to go," he says in a choked voice, quickly turning and launching himself at the door.

"Oh no you don't," Christian shouts, reaching for him. He wraps his arms around Syed's upper body and drags him back against him and back into the room. "You're not going anywhere," he coldly informs him.

"Let me go," cries Syed, struggling against his iron grip. "I don't want you anywhere near me," he sobs. But Christian won't let go, and eventually he is too exhausted to struggle anymore and slumps in his arms. Christian then turns him around to face him, and pulls him tight against him in a crushing hug, burying his face in Syed's neck; he holds onto him for ages, unable to let go; afraid to let go.

Syed cannot fight against him, against both of them; his arms desperately want to reach up and wrap themselves around Christian's neck, even now; and he knows that if they weren't trapped against his body by Christian's arms, that he wouldn't be able to stop them; in the same way that he can't help letting his head drop onto his shoulder, his tears slowly falling.

Eventually, Christian lets him go. "Sit," he orders gruffly, directing him to the sofa, before going to make a couple of strong coffees.

Without looking up, Syed accepts the coffee; taking a sip, he winces at the sweet taste.

"For shock," Christian explains shortly.

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

"What are you doing back here?" Christian finally asks, breaking the silence.

"I live here," Syed reminds him bleakly.

"Did you come to tell me you were moving back home?" Christian asks.

"Why did you bring him here?" Syed asks huskily, looking intently into his coffee cup. "If you wanted to finish with me, all you had to do is tell me?" he adds, his voice filled with pain.

"You've been accusing me of hooking up with guys every time I go out recently, you must be so thrilled to finally be proved right," Christian replies bitterly. "Now you can run back home to mum and dad with a clear conscience."

"Why are you angry with me?" Syed asks, raising his eyes to Christian, "I've done nothing wrong."

"You must have a very short memory, if you don't remember screaming the house down this morning."

"Don't exaggerate," Syed snaps, reacting to his sharp tone; "and anyway, I had good reason; you can't tell me that if you saw me getting out of a taxi with a guy, after staying out all night, that you wouldn't be angry?"

"You didn't happen to notice Roxy getting out of the cab, then?" Christian asks.

"It was you he couldn't stop looking at, smiling at," he replies bitterly. "It didn't even bother you that I might see you with him; I'd never hurt you like that."

"It must be wonderful being so perfect, so right all the time. It must have killed you to have to lower yourself to live with a sinner like me; no wonder you fought against it for so long."

"You're blaming me for what just happened?" Syed asks incredulously.

"You ran crying to mummy, to tell her we were having problems," Christian accuses. "She must have been giddy with happiness."

"What? No, I didn't," he replies confused. "In the Square, you saw us in the Square," he realises.

"It was very touching, you crying on her shoulder," Christian replies sarcastically.

"You've got it wrong," he tries to explain.

"Yea," sneers Christian, "of course I have, because you would never betray me and go running back to your family. I'll bet the only reason you've stayed with me this long is because they couldn't change your mind for you because they weren't talking to you."

"You know, actually, I can't talk to you right now," Syed says agitatedly, jumping up of the couch; "you won't listen to me, you're deliberately twisting everything to suit you." He turns and walks quickly towards the door, but Christian gets there before him, and blocks his path.

"Let me pass," he demands, attempting to push past him, but Christian won't budge.

"Those first few weeks after we first met, when we got to know each other, became friends, what impression did you get of me?" Christian asks out of the blue.

Ignoring his question, Syed returns to sit in stony silence on the edge of the couch.

"I've never hid my personality from anyone, and I didn't hide it from you; you knew exactly what I was like, so why did you kiss me that day at the Unit?

Syed continues to ignore him.

"You knew the risk you were taking; making a move on someone you knew, who knew your family, who worked with you and your family. Sy, answer me," he orders, losing patients; he comes around the couch and pulls him to his feet, forcing his face up so that Syed has no choice but to look him in the eye; his hands burying themselves in his hair, holding him captive.

"What do you want me to say?" Syed snaps irritably, hating the way his heart beats a little faster at the sudden close proximity; the way his body always overrides his brain when it comes to this man.

"I want you to tell me why you picked me, why you risked everything for me."

"I don't know why," he replies, trying to sidestep the question, and to loosen Christian's hold so that he can put some distance between them.

"Yes, you do," Christian corrects him, "and I'm not letting you go until you tell me."

"Okay, I knew the risk," Syed finally, reluctantly admits. "I told myself over and over again that I wouldn't go there, that I couldn't go there. But that day, I hurt you when I said it was against God's will, and I felt so terrible. I couldn't bear the idea of you being angry with me; and maybe deciding you could no longer be my friend. Making things right between us seemed like the most important thing in the world. I don't know if I forgot the danger, but I ignored it just for a moment; and then you were standing so close to me, looking into my eyes, and it was too late; I couldn't help myself."

"And why do you think the attraction was so powerful? Do you think that if I was the sort of guy who sat over in the Vic every night of my life necking beers; the sort of guy who'd only ever sh*gged two or three guys; do you think you would have felt so drawn to me?"

"It wasn't just about that," Syed strongly denies. "I'd never met anyone like you before; you were so open and honest; you were proud of who you were; you did whatever you wanted to, without caring what anyone thought; you were afraid of no one. Within a few weeks, a few days even, of knowing you, I felt more comfortable around you than anyone I'd ever met; you were so friendly, so full of fun; and even though I'd only known you for a short while, I felt I could trust you, and it had been so long since I'd trusted anyone …," he trails off, thinking that maybe he's said too much. "You still are all those things; although that's not based on today, obviously," he can't help adding.

"The only thing that has changed is that you've stopped trusting me," Christian says quietly.

"Well, after what's just happened, do you blame me?" Syed shouts angrily, suddenly having had enough of this conversation. He feels like crying in frustration at Christian's attitude. He desperately wants him to care about his feelings, to feel some kind of remorse for what he has done, instead of just attacking him like this. "Get away from me," he cries in a fit of temper, his hands balling into fists and pushing ineffectually at Christian's chest. The way Christian is holding his face in his hands, using his strength against him, is making Syed feel so helpless; he can't think straight. They both know it's unfairly tilting the balance of power in Christian's favour; and it's working, because now Syed just wants it all to stop, he wants to close his eyes and give up. Usually, when he is upset, it's Christian who comforts him, and all he wants to do right now is let himself be comforted.

"The important thing to remember is that a large part of the reason why you fell for me was because I was the opposite of you," Christian says calmly, ignoring his request. And, sensing his struggle, he forces Syed a little closer. "You fell for me because I was living the life you didn't dare even contemplate living. There was a sense of excitement; a sense that anything could and often did happen when I was around?"

"Maybe you're not all that," Syed tries to sneer, but doesn't quite pull it off.

"But I so am, and you know it," Christian murmurs suggestively.

Syed can't help the blush which rises in his cheeks, or the way his breath quickens when Christian, slipping his arm around his waist, pulls him up against him.

"No, Christian," he hoarsely protests, trying to fight against the weakness invading his body. "I don't want this, I can't ..., you and me ..."

"The point I'm trying to make," Christian says, as if he hadn't spoken; but he is having trouble remembering what the point actually is, because he is now totally distracted by Syed's warm, quivering body pressed up against him; and the way he is looking up at him, his eyes pleading, tortured – Christian knows that look from the past, and for a moment is overcome with sadness at having been responsible for bringing it back.

"The point I'm trying to make," he repeats huskily, "is that you shouldn't have started this, knowing what you knew about me, if you couldn't handle it."

"I wasn't planning on starting anything, it just happened; and you know I tried to stop it going any further," Syed begs for understanding.

"But not before you got what you wanted," Christian reminds him, his mouth just inches away.

"No, Christian, let me go," Syed pleads, desperately trying to pull back, to focus on the feelings of pain and betrayal of only a few moments ago; but his body doesn't understand, doesn't care about any of that; his body thinks it's exactly where it's supposed to be; and Christian is looking deep into his eyes; bending him slowly back over his arm, taking the last bit of control from him; his eyes darkening; and Syed can feel himself slipping hopelessly.

"I don't regret starting it," he hears himself say in a voice he barely recognises.

"No, me neither," Christian agrees thickly. His hands, one tangled in Syed's hair and the other holding his body against him, prevent him from struggling, as he crushes his lips beneath his own; and everything else is forgotten for a little while.

###########################

"You know, I used to go clubbing every weekend when I was in my 20s, but I'm not nearly as into it now," Christian admits some time later, offering an olive branch.

There is a chance for a kind of peace, but then …

"I've tried to understand, you know," Syed says rashly.

"What exactly have you tried to understand?" asks Christian, pulling back slightly, a note of warning in his voice.

"The drinking, going clubbing ..." he starts to say.

"Well isn't that big of you," Christian says sarcastically, letting him go so quickly that Syed has to grab onto his arm for a moment to keep his balance. "I can just see you, bravely defending me to Tamwar, who has probably never even kissed a girl, even though he's almost 20; both of you sitting here with your orange juice, judging me and finding me wanting."

"It wasn't like that," Syed tries to defend himself, even though the thought persists that he isn't the one on trial here.

"You know, I can't wait for Kamil to be old enough so that he can look at me disapprovingly, then I'll have the whole set," Christian adds bitingly.

"Leave Tam and Kamil out of this," Syed warns him.

"Sorry," Christian says quietly. He goes to sit wearily down on the couch, running his hands through his hair.

Despite himself, Syed feels sympathy for him; he has a sudden, desperate need to go to him and put his arms around him to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be okay, even though he knows it won't be. Forcing himself to go and sit on the other end of the couch, he presses his hand against his forehead for a moment, massaging the skin, trying to ease the pressure.

"You're the first person in so long who has made me feel ashamed of the way I live my life," Christian says unhappily, without looking up.

"I don't want you to feel ashamed," Syed says gently, "I know you don't mean to hurt me; that you can't help it. I read an article about Ge**ge Michael a few months ago ..."

"You think I'm like him?" Christian asks, incredulously.

"First of all, there's nothing wrong with Ge**ge Michael," Syed protests, trying to back-track, realising he's said the wrong thing, "his music …"

"Don't play dumb, we both know what you meant," Christian says sharply. "You read an article about a gay man playing away and immediately thought of me. After how long we've known each other and all we've been through, you think so little of me; you assume I've so little self-control that I can't go on a night out without wanting to sh*g everything that moves. Basically, you're just as narrow-minded as everyone else around here," he concludes, his voice full of bitterness.

"What I'm trying to say is that I understand that some guys need more excitement, but the thought of you with other guys, I just can't ...," Syed tries to explain. He wishes Christian would just try to understand how hurt he is feeling right now; he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to keep calm.

"Name me one time when I've given you the slightest reason to believe I've cheated on you?" Christian demands.

"Well, today …" Syed mumbles.

"APART from today," Christian growls.

"I've seen you flirting with guys when you're working in the Vic and in R&R," Syed almost whispers.

"No, Syed, you've seen THEM flirting with me," Christian almost spits the words out. "And I've always given them the brush-off."

Syed doesn't say anything.

"You know, if you're so convinced I've been cheating on you, why have you stayed with me this long?" Christian asks the question Syed has been avoiding asking himself.

"Sy?" Christian presses, when he doesn't respond.

Syed gets up.

"You're not leaving," he warns.

"I've got a headache, I need to take something," Syed mumbles, walking past him and into the bathroom.

"When he returns a few minutes later, he looks pale and on the verge of tears.

"Lie down for a bit," Christian suggests gently, and Syed doesn't argue. He gets undressed and crawls into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Whilst he's asleep, Christian has a shower, and makes himself something to eat. He receives a text from Roxy telling him that Paul is over in the Vic, and wondering if it's worth his while hanging around or if he should head home. Christian replies with a very short and to-the-point message: "Go home".

Not for the first time over the past few months, he questions Roxy's judgment. He has always wished that she and Syed would get on, and tended to blame Syed for being too hard on her. But he has to admit that she's said and done some things recently which have made him very uneasy; which have made him think that she wouldn't mind too much if Syed were out of the picture, for the simple, selfish reason that their relationship means that he is no longer at her beck and call. He's actually begun to question whether he should remain friends with her; which he hadn't ever wanted to do, because he hates being the type of guy who would drop a friend as soon as he gets a boyfriend. But he has now reached the stage where he can't relax when Roxy and Syed are in the same room, because he's worried about what she might say to him or what she might do; and he can feel himself starting to turn against her because of the way she's treating Syed. Her behaviour shouldn't surprise him; he's always known that whilst she's fun to hang out with, Roxy rarely rises above being self-obsessed; this side of her character hadn't really bothered him until it started to affect Syed.

He understands that Syed and Roxy are coming from two very different places: Roxy thinks he doesn't go out often enough; doesn't party hard enough. And even though he's told her repeatedly that he's no longer interested, she still tries to fix him up with guys when they go out; challenging him to prove he's still got it, promising that anything that happens will stay between them. Syed, on the other hand, thinks he goes out too much, parties too hard and cheats on him every chance he gets.

Roxy still either doesn't get, or doesn't want to get, how important Syed is to him, and now Syed has lost all faith in him, Christian realises sadly.

Sighing, he walks over to the bed and sits down. He loves to watch Syed sleep; he always looks so peaceful, so beautiful; and right now he's puppy-dog level cuteness, lying on his tummy, hugging his pillow, his hair every which way.

Christian gently strokes his hair away from his eyes, and watches him until he feels calm again. "I'm not interested in any other guy," he whispers huskily, "I never could be. Today, I was so gutted when I saw you with your mum, because I knew what it meant; I knew you were going to leave me and go back to them.

That guy, he was all wrong; his hair was too short, he was too tall, too broad, his voice was all wrong. Even if you hadn't walked in when you did, I wouldn't have been able to go through with it; from the moment I started to kiss him, it felt wrong; I had my face buried in his neck for so long, he must have been about to fall asleep with boredom; it would be funny if it wasn't so tragic."

Syed stirs slightly, but doesn't wake.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Christian whispers brokenly, tears of despair running down his cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"How long have I been asleep?" asks Syed groggily, when he wakes up several hours later.

"Most of the afternoon," Christian replies, putting down his book and getting up off the couch, "how are you feeling?"

"Okay," he mumbles, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom. He comes out roughly 30 minutes later after having had a shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I've saved you some dinner," Christian says, putting the plate of food into the microwave to heat it up.

"Thanks," Syed replies politely. He gets a change of clothes and goes back into the bathroom to get dressed.

Christian pretends not to notice his newfound awkwardness at dressing in front of him.

He sits with him as he eats.

"Has your headache gone away?" he asks.

"Yea," Syed replies.

"I take it you didn't get much sleep last night?" he asks wearily.

Syed doesn't reply.

"After you've eaten, if you want to go back home to your family, I won't stop you," he says quietly.

"Okay," Syed says, his voice wobbling just a little.

They sit quietly, each lost in his own misery.

Once he has finished, Christian takes Syed's plate into the kitchen and washes it, for something to do. He stays in the kitchen tidying things that are already tidy, so that he doesn't have to watch Syed packing his stuff and walking out the door.

Syed stays sitting at the table sipping his sparkling water very slowly, not knowing what to do now that he actually has his freedom. "This is it," he thinks, "I'm going to walk out of here and never come back." The very idea of never seeing Christian again makes him feel sick, and brings back his headache. His phone beeps with a message, and he smiles ruefully to himself as he reads it.

"Is she wondering what's keeping you?" Christian asks, his anger bubbling to the surface at the idea of Zainab texting to hurry him up.

"She is going to be my friend," Syed tells him with a smile.

"What?" he asks, puzzled.

"When we talked earlier, I suggested it."

"You don't have to lie, what did she really say?" he asks tetchily, coming over to take the phone out of Syed's hand so that he can see for himself.

But Syed isn't lying; the message is from Zainab and is to the point: "Lunch tomorrow, The Caf, 12.30 – don't be late."

"I don't understand, if she knows you're moving back home anyway, why is she asking you to go for lunch?"

"Because I'm not moving back home, or at least I wasn't," Syed sighs. "Today, in the Square," he tries to explain.

"I know what happened in the Square," Christian cuts across him, "I didn't just see the two of you, I heard what you were saying."

"She was just asking me why I was upset," he replies bewildered; "and will you stop speaking to me like that, it wasn't me who hurt you," he snaps.

"She asked you to move back home," Christian reminds him angrily, "and you said you would."

"What? No, I didn't," he replies, struggling to remember exactly what was said. "I'll admit, I told her we were having problems, but I didn't agree to move back home; she asked me to, but I said I couldn't live without …, I said 'no'."

"That's not what I heard," Christian insists, refusing to give ground. "You said, 'It's over between us'; she said, 'Come home with me'; and you said, 'Okay'."

"No," Syed denies fiercely, "I never said it was over; I might have said that I thought it was over, but I was upset; and did you actually hear me say the word 'okay'?" he demands.

"I know you've been pining after your family since you left them, and that it's gotten harder the longer they've ignored you. You think I can't tell when you're unhappy; and every time you pass Zainab or Masood in the street and they ignore you, you sink a little lower. So I didn't have to hang around to hear you say the actual words, to know you were going to accept her offer. Why can't you just admit that the reason you've convinced yourself I've been cheating on you, is because you need an excuse to give up on us so that you can go back to them? And today, I've given you the perfect excuse. I'm guessing, I've only got a few weeks to get the hell out of Dodge, if I want to avoid hearing all the gossip about you and your new girlfriend, courtesy of Mommy Dearest."

"My God," Syed cries incredulously, "you've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

"So, tell me which bit I've got wrong," Christian challenges.

"Well, first of all, the reason I've convinced myself you've been cheating on me is because you've been cheating on me," he replies angrily. "And, second of all, although I've been missing my family more recently, I've never once even considered moving back home. From the moment I moved in with you, my position has been that I would do anything I could to get back on speaking terms with mum and dad, EXCEPT give you up," he informs him, his voice rising with the strength of his conviction. "At least, that's how I felt before I found you ..."

"So, today, you weren't going to move back home?" Christian quickly interrupts him, for the first time feeling a bit unsure.

"No," replies Syed firmly, "I asked mum if we could be friends; if we could just talk sometimes, and ignore all the stuff we can't agree on. I left her to think about it, and asked her to contact me if she thought she could do this. And this text is her agreeing to my suggestion, or at least agreeing to give it a go."

"Well at least something good came out of today," Christian says, with a nervous laugh.

"Don't you dare try to make light of this," Syed warns furiously. "In the space of a few minutes, you threw away a relationship that was supposed to mean everything to you."

"How would you feel if you thought I was going to finish with you? Christian asks quietly.

"I'd be devastated," Syed admits.

"When I heard you tell Zainab we were over, I was devastated, but also really angry. I wanted to rush over and drag you away from her; I wanted to scream at her that you were mine, not hers. I felt sick at the thought of my life without you in it, and I couldn't bear the thought of going back to the half-life I'd lived before you moved in with me. When I walked into the Vic, I was just looking for something or someone to take away the pain for a little while."

"Is that what you're going to do every time we hit a rough spot?" Syed asks unhappily.

"No Sy, I swear to you I will never do that to you again," Christian promises urgently, reaching out to him, but Syed backs away. "I'm sorry, so sorry," he pleads. "You've no idea how much I wish you hadn't walked in on us; not because you caught me, but because of how much it hurt you."

"What about all the other times, when I didn't walk in on you?" Syed asks, ignoring his apology.

"I've never cheated on you," Christian says quietly.

"So why have you gone out the last two Fridays in a row? It's because you've met someone, isn't it? Is it that guy you had here earlier?"

"No, Sy, I haven't met anyone. I went out last night because I was feeling really miserable with the way things were between us, and Roxy thought a night out would cheer me up. I was actually working last Friday night, I did a shift in R & R; I didn't tell you because you were barely speaking to me, and I didn't think you cared what I did or where I went."

"What about the guy with the dodgy aftershave, whose telephone number you had on your arm when you came home after you and Roxy had been to that new club in Hammersmith a few weeks ago? I know you thought you'd managed to wash it off before I saw it, but ..."

"Oh my God, is that what this has all been about?" Christian cries in amazement. "All the mood swings; accusing me of not spending enough time with you, but then I wanting to be left alone; bringing up the past and blaming me for everything; the accusations of cheating. You've put me through hell for over a month, because of a stupid telephone number?

"There was a heart just above it," Syed reminds him.

"It was a STARFISH," Christian shouts. "Roxy and I met a couple of guys in a bar; one of them took a fancy to me; I explained my situation, and he appeared to give up; he said he was a tattooist, and begged me to let him draw on my arm something to remember him by. I'd had a few shots by this stage, and it seemed like the greatest idea ever to have a tattoo of a starfish on my arm, so I let him get on with it. He was really drunk and (luckily) didn't have his equipment with him, so he had to do it with a pen. It wasn't until the next morning that I noticed the telephone number underneath; I didn't see the point of telling you, mainly because even before that night, I'd seen signs that you found it difficult listening to me talking about guys; and I figured that what you didn't know, wouldn't prey on your mind.

And, I explained about Roxy accidentally spilling some of Phil's aftershave on me when she was mucking about," he reminds him. "Did you follow my suggestion and surprise Phil with an affectionate hug the next time you saw him, so that you could catch a whiff of his aftershave for a match-up?"

"This isn't just about a guy's telephone number or aftershave; all they show is that you're getting careless; they help to prove what I've suspected for a while," Syed says unhappily. "And this morning, you ruined everything for us," he adds hoarsely, his eyes filling with tears.

"What you've suspected for a while," Christian repeats the words. "So, all this time, you've been building up your little case against me, and this morning you got the final piece of evidence. Our relationship never stood a chance, did it?" he realises sadly.

They both stand staring at each other for a few moments, neither willing to make the final move.

"I need to pop out," Christian eventually says, his voice not quite steady. He goes to the table to get his keys and wallet before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Syed can't help asking.

"I'm going to make it easy for you," he replies without turning around, his voice thick with tears. "I'm going to get out of your way so that you can pack the stuff you want to bring with you; you can come back for the rest another day. Please don't ever forget how much I love you," he manages to add before his voice breaks. He closes the door behind him.

After he's left, Syed stands rooted to the spot for a few minutes; unable to think, unable to do anything. He then slowly walks to the table and sits down, absently wiping away his tears. "Is it really over?" he wonders. "Did we go through all that pain and heartache, fight so hard to be together, only for it to fall apart after seven months?" He lifts his glass to take a drink and then puts it down without taking one.

After some time has passed, his brain starts working again and he begins to go over everything: how it all went wrong; when it all started to go wrong. They were so happy in the beginning, and in the middle; it was only the last few weeks … Although, was that strictly true? He'd trusted Christian completely at first; he'd believed him when he said he didn't need anyone else. He remembers Tam once questioning whether Christian cared; and he'd laughed it off at the time, but afterwards he'd thought about it some more; he wondered if Tam had seen something he hadn't. But Christian had been totally open with him about everything from the beginning, he'd had nothing to hide. After a night out, he would always tell him all about it; and there were lots of funny stories; they sometimes involved some guy who'd taken a rather too-keen interest in Christian (sometimes Roxy, but mostly Christian), and he would tell him about how he and Roxy had managed to finally get away from him. When he went to R&R to hang out whilst Christian was working, Roxy would tell pretty-much the same story as Christian, except she would say that Christian flirted with the guy for half an hour before telling him to get lost; Christian always laughingly denied this. Then, as time passed, Christian started to talk less and less about guys; he would instead tell him about other kinds of things; maybe something the taxi driver said, or about Roxy getting into a scrap with another girl and his having to come between them. But Syed knew stuff still went on; all he had to do was watch Christian walking around collecting glasses when he was doing bar work, and he would see guys checking him out; sometimes, one would try to get him into a conversation, or make a playful grab for him. Christian would laughingly slap the guy's hands away, but Syed couldn't help wondering what would have happened if he hadn't been there; or if Christian hadn't been working and had had a few drinks. And he didn't trust Roxy; he couldn't warm to her, no matter how hard he tried for Christian's sake; and he knew she didn't like him.

Syed realises that over time all these little things together ate away at his faith in Christian; and in the end, he was so ready to believe the worst, almost expecting it … But it doesn't matter now, anyway, because finding Christian with that guy this morning proved that he'd been right all along to be suspicious.

When Christian returns an hour later with a bottle of whiskey, Syed is still sitting at the table, staring into his now-empty glass; he doesn't look up, and Christian walks past him without comment.

Putting aside the whiskey, he pours himself a glass of wine. "Drink?" he asks.

"No, thanks," Syed says quietly.

Christian comes and takes the empty glass out of his hand and replaces it with a glass of juice; he then goes to sit on the couch.

Syed knows he should have left, that Christian expected him to leave whilst he was out; he knows it's the right thing to do ...

Michael Bublé's voice fills the room. "Christian hates Michael Bublé," is Syed's first thought. He remembers telling him a few months ago that he and Zainab had been to see him in concert back in May; and Christian said it was a good job it was before they got together, because his refusing to go would have been the cause of their first argument ...

"Maybe I should get up and leave now; I can get my stuff later," he thinks; "or maybe I should stay until I've finished the juice …"

"Sy," Christian says softly, "come here."

Syed gets up and goes to him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Two months later_

"Ian told Peter, who told Jane, who told Denise, who told Mum, that he thinks it was Phil who started the fire in the Vic a few months ago; but Mum thinks Ian is just saying that because he hates Phil," Syed tells Christian, as they prepare dinner. "She said …"

"Roxy wants me to go clubbing with her this Friday," Christian interrupts tensely.

"Right," Syed says calmly, his voice in no way betraying his unease. "I'll probably get a DVD; maybe I'll see if Tam can come over ..."

"You're coming with me," Christian informs him.

"No, sorry, I can't," he immediately replies.

"Yes you can," Christian insists, "it's non-negotiable. I don't care whether you fancy it or not, from now on whenever I go out you're coming too. I'm not having you sitting here on your own imagining all sorts; this is the only way."

"But it's meant to be your time with Roxy," Syed reminds him hopefully.

"We can catch up over lunch," he replies dismissively.

"I trust you now," Syed says, as convincingly as he can.

"No, you don't," he replies with a smile, "but it's okay, because from now on at least you're going to know exactly what happens when I go clubbing because you'll be with me. We'll build the rest of your trust up from there."

"Roxy won't want me coming along," he tries.

"Of course she will; and if she doesn't, she can stay at home," Christian replies, bluntly.

"But," Syed tries to think of another excuse.

"Sy, I know you've been clubbing in the past when you lived in Leeds, so what's really bothering you?" Christian asks gently.

"Nothing," he mumbles, nervously running his hand through his hair. He turns to walk away, but Christian stops him by taking his arm and turning him back to him.

"You can tell me," he says softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"I don't want to see other guys flirting with you," Syed confesses barely above a whisper, his eyes lowered, a blush rising in his cheeks.

Christian slips his arms around his waist, pulls him into his embrace, and gives him a very long, and soon very passionate, kiss. "Let's go shopping, splash out on some new threads for Friday," he suggests huskily once he finally lets Syed come up for air. He then turns to continue making dinner as if the matter's been decided.

"A kiss is not an argument," Syed weakly tries to protest.

"It always works when I kiss you," Christian replies with a knowing smirk.

"Well, anyway," Syed says, deliberabely ignoring his comment, "when you and Roxy get drunk, I don't really want to deal with that."

"Well you're going to," he replies sweetly. "Just imagine I've got a cold and I'm a bit delirious with it, and you have to take care of me," he suggests with a grin.

"Christian," Syed begs.

"No, discussion over; Christian has spoken," Christian interrupts. "I want you with me," he adds seriously. "I've never liked going out without you," he admits. "I've not forced the issue before, because I knew you didn't approve; but now I realise that that was the wrong way to think. I don't believe there is anything wrong with going clubbing sometimes, getting drunk and falling over sometimes; and since you're my boyfriend, you're going to get used to it, and accept it."

"I can't dance," Syed uses his final excuse.

"I'll teach you," Christian says with a smile.

####################

"I CAN'T DANCE," Syed shouts to be heard above the music.

"I'LL TEACH YOU," Christian shouts back, his voice slurring slightly.

"You can't dance either," Syed laughs. Discovering this had been one of the revelations of the night.

"OK, LET'S GO," replies Christian obliviously, grinning and giving him the thumbs up. He slowly moves towards the crowded dance floor whilst keeping a tight grip on Syed's hand so that he has no choice but to follow. "No-one is paying any attention to us," he says encouragingly over his shoulder, even though he has spotted at least two guys who have been paying close attention to Syed from the moment they arrived.

The dancing lessons are a real giggle, and Syed finds himself laughing so much he forgets to be self-conscious. And then it all slows down, and Christian pulls him into his arms. Syed is surprised to find that being in Christian's arms in a club full of people, with the music really loud and the lights dimmed is actually the most incredible experience; even more incredible than when they dance alone in the flat.

"Christian, we're leaving," Roxy snaps, suddenly appearing beside them and tapping Christian rather aggressively on the shoulder.

Christian lifts his head off Syed's shoulder and blinks a few times to get his focus back. "What?" he asks, looking from her annoyed to Ronnie's apologetic face.

"This place is pants," Roxy snaps, and Christian can see the vexation she isn't really trying to hide. He pulls back from Syed and turns towards her. "But we've only been here a little while," he tries to reason, "and anyway I think it totally rocks," he grins, tying to persuade her.

"See you later," Roxy says dismissively, turning to walk away.

"Wait," Christian pleads, grabbing her arm, "can we meet for lunch tomorrow?" he offers.

"I'll probably be busy," she declines the offer.

"Okay," Christian replies carefully. He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek by way of goodbye; but before letting her go, he says, loud enough so that only she can hear, "If you force me to choose between you, I'll choose Syed every time."

When they step away from each other, Christian gives her a friendly smile, but she knows he is being completely serious. She realises that their friendship has reached a crossroads, and that if she doesn't adjust, she'll lose him. She turns to walk away, but then stops.

"The Caf, 12.30?" she asks, looking back over her shoulder.

"The Caf, 12.30," he agrees, and this time the smile reaches his eyes.

During this exchange, Syed is standing all alone, only a few feet away. He knows he's ruined their night. Watching them whispering and laughing together, he feels keenly how close they are and how bad an idea it was to invade their space. He looks away, his eyes darting around the room looking for he doesn't know what; suddenly the music is too loud; there are too many people. And then he locks eyes with a guy who is standing some distance away, who he realises is staring intently at him; and as soon as they make eye contact the guy starts to walk quickly towards him. Syed immediately, desperately looks back towards Christian, but he is still focused on Roxy. "I really shouldn't have come," he thinks anxiously, even as his arms come up to cross protectively over his chest and his head bows; he looks helplessly towards the floor, frozen in indecision.

A moment later, he feels a hand under his chin, lifting his head up until he is staring into a pair of the most beautiful green eyes he has ever seen, which have a look of such tenderness. "Hey," Christian mouths, smiling gently at him. He then takes Syed's arms, uncrosses them and links them around his own neck, bringing their bodies back into contact. He covers his mouth with his own and kisses his anxiety away.

"She left because of me," Syed whispers huskily in his ear once he allows him to speak.

"No, I stayed because of you," Christian whispers back. He gently presses Syed's head back into the crook of his neck, where it had been before they were interrupted, and he lowers his head back onto Syed's shoulder; and takes him back once more to the edge of heaven.

####################

All in all, Syed enjoys himself a lot more than he thought he would, and the hardest part about getting Christian home at the end of the night is trying to stop him kissing and hugging him in the back of the taxi; and at one point framing his face with his hands to show the taxi driver how beautiful he is, much to Syed's embarrassment. He worries about what the driver will make of it all, but when he catches his eye, the guy seems more amused than anything else.

"You're much more fun than Rox," Christian whispers loudly, as Syed puts him into bed, "and she's just a girl," he dismisses.

"Yea, girls are useless," Syed smiles.

"Yea, an' they're useless," Christian tells him solemnly. "D'you have a good time?" he asks, grabbing Syed's face with both hands and holding it steady so that he can gage his response.

"Yea, I did," Syed admits sincerely.

"Ah, y'did, that's brilliant," he says happily, "an' now y'can dance, too," he reminds him, all chuffed.

"Yea," Syed giggles as he remembers their efforts, "but only for you."

"Ah really, jus' for me. Ah, I love you soooooooooooooo much," Christian slurs, giving Syed a big sloppy kiss, before his hands drop away from his face and he passes out.

"And I love you," Syed says softly, pressing his lips against Christian's for a moment, before fixing the quilt over him and going to get ready for bed.

The end

Thank you for reading this story. I really hope you liked it. I hope we see lots of Christian and Syed in 2011.


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